venial sins of supply shopping

I needed printer ink and receipt books, so I went to Staples this morning while doing my usual round of errands. I already have an inordinate love of fresh pencils and pristine notebooks, and with an Etsy forum thread on school supply lust fresh in my mind, it was perhaps unwise to venture into the temple of school supplies before I was fully awake and alert to the dangers of stickers and patterned packing tape. That's all the excuse I'm going to offer, because there really isn't anything that can justify what happened next. I found my ink and chose two carbon-copy receipt books for use at Renegade, and then I thought I might just have a look at the bins of inexpensive, brightly colored promo supplies that are always in the aisles. Just a look. Just to see if there was anything I'd forgotten. After all, I spent 10 minutes yesterday rummaging around in my desk drawer for a single paperclip. Just in case...

And there's where I made my mistake. Because just past the bins of promo plumage, all shiny and bright, there was a table of bulk, choose-your-own, funky little office supplies. You pick a divided container (a delicious little toy in and of itself), and fill it with your choice of colored pushpins, binder clips and paper clips. Big bin or little bin. Oh, my. I was weak. I not only did this, I chose the big bin. Please note the Tiffany blue binder clips imprinted with antique postal cancellations. Who could resist? (I know, Dad, you'd have no trouble at all. Don't brag.) So I filled my bin, and as I was disentangling myself from the table of bulk temptations, I had to pass the markers. Fatal. Error. I am now the proud owner of a completely unnecessary, brand new, dizzying beautiful set of Sarasa Zebra retractable gel pens (10!) in a heady array of fall colors. Burgundy! Slate! Mango! Grass! Mea culpa.